You Don't Want To Leave
by davidthesquirrel
Summary: MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE FANFICTION Gerard Way has alcoholism problems


Gerard raised the bottle to his lips. His eyes glazed over, the liquid slid smoothly down his throat. His vision was blurred. His mind was blurred. Those bitter thoughts temporarily gone.

* * *

Gerard arrived at the studio two hours late, whole band waiting for him. He staggered in the room, the shadow of his hoodie covering his face. He placed one hand against the wall to keep balance. Ray spoke up,

"Gerard, you're two hours late. Do you know how behind we are already? What were you doing?" Gerard pulled his hood off of his head revealing his unkempt, unwashed hair, blood shot eyes, and a look of anger, pain, and fear. They were shocked. Just as Gerard was about to open his mouth to respond to Ray, he twisted around violently and vomited into a trash can behind him. He slowly crouched down, eventually hugging the can as numerous spasms pulsated through his body. After the spasms had passed, Mikey went over to Gerard to help him up. When Mikey offered his hand, Gerard looked up at him and Mikey caught his expression of desperation, of a plea for help, both riddled with fear, leaving Mikey feeling as if someone had punched a hole in his heart. This was not Gerard. Who had done this to his big brother?

Gerard mumbled something that was assumed to be, "Let's record some music shit." He dragged himself into the recording room and placed the headphones clumsily onto his head. He held onto the mic stand for support. The music started. In one sudden movement, Gerard flung the headphones off of his head, his face scrunched in agony and covered his ears. "Too loud…," he cried.

* * *

Ray rummaged through his fridge.

"Sorry guys, don't have any beer," he yelled into the other room. Instead, he grabbed a carton of orange juice and brought it to the guys.

"I only have this," he shook the carton, the noise it made indicating that it was almost empty.

"Dude, you gotta go shopping. How do you live off of this?" said Frank. Ray shrugged. Gerard was passed out on the couch. Mikey sat next to him looking worriedly at his brother.

"What's wrong Mikes?" asked Ray.

"Nothing. I'm just worried about Gee. I've never seen him like this before."

"I'm sure he's fine, Mikes. Like you said, you've never seen him like this before so it's probably just a one-time thing." Mikey wasn't so sure. What the guys didn't know was that Gerard had been drinking since high school as the result of getting bullied. He also frequently came to Mikey's house to drink, always ending up with Gerard telling him how much pain he was feeling with slurred words. Even so, Mikey had never seen him that hung-over. To tell the truth, Mikey was beginning to become afraid of Gerard when he drank. He became a totally different person when he was intoxicated. Someone who wasn't his big brother.

* * *

Gerard woke up in Mikey's house. His head was pounding and he tasted bile in the back of his throat.

"Mikey?" he cried out hoarsely. No response. Instead, he heard heavy footstep climbing up the stairs, slowly approaching his room. Mikey peered into the bedroom. Gerard felt a pang of nostalgia. He wished he could still protect Mikey like he did before. His chest tightened. He thought, "I'm sorry Mikey. I won't be able to protect you anymore…" His little brother walked over to Gerard's bed. He pointed at the foot of the bed, and Gerard nodded.

"Gee, I- I love you. I hate seeing you like this. It hurts me so much to see you go through so much pain," Mikey started, choking on his own words. Gerard thought, "I love you too, Mikes. Please don't feel hurt. You don't want to be like me." Mikey gazed into his brother's eyes searching for a response. There was nothing. His eyes were still filled with the desperation and fear Mikey had seen the day before. Mikey was disappointed. Why wouldn't Gerard confide in him? Feeling remorseful, Mikey got up and started to walk towards the doorway.

"Mikey, wait," Gerard called. Mikey turned around, hope stirring inside of him. "I'm okay, alright? Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," Gerard tried to say this genuinely, for the sake of Mikey. Mikey was glad that Gerard had tried to make him feel better. It was like the old days, always there for each other, but he knew that Gerard was lying. That kind of pain could not be hidden. After all, the eyes are the window to the soul. Gerard's soul was dying.

* * *

Later that day, Mikey drove Gerard home. He didn't want to leave his older brother all by himself, but he had insisted on going home. Mikey pulled into Gerard's driveway.

"Gee, please call me if you need anything. Anything at all," Mikey said, his voice full of worry.

"Thank you, Mikes. I'll see you tomorrow. Love ya!" Gerard hauled himself up to his house and went inside. Mikey stayed outside of Gerard's for a while afterwards wondering if he should insist on staying with him.

* * *

Gerard leaned against the wall.

"Why? Why do I have to go through this? I don't want to do this anymore!" He hit his head against the wall over and over and over again until a bruise formed on his forehead. He crawled into the kitchen, filled with old dishes soaking in lukewarm, bacteria filled water. Opening the food pantry, Gerard looked at his collection of alcohol. Vodka, whiskey, brandy, wine, champagne, sherry, everything was in there. He grabbed his Jack Daniels bottle and unscrewed the cap. He raised it up above his head and exclaimed, "HERE'S TO A LONG 35 YEARS!" and swung his head back and gulped down as much as he could. He staggered into his living room and jumped onto the couch.

"I'm sorry, Mikey. I love you. I'm sorry, Ray. I'm sorry, Frank. I'm sorry, Lindsay, I will always love you. I'm sorry, Bandit, but you wouldn't want a father like me anyway" All of which said in between swigs of alcohol. Gerard picked himself off of the couch and hurled himself toward the bathroom and swung open the cabinets. All of these pills. Lexapro, Celexa, Prozac, Lustral, Aspirin, Tylenol, Advil! He grabbed all of them dancing and twirling, arms filled with pills and a bottle of alcohol, he closed the cabinet with his foot and danced his way to his bedroom. He shut the door with his foot again, locked the door and laid all of the pills out in a straight line taking occasional sips of alcohol. He emptied the bottles out one by one, each in a neat little pile. He had a wide smile on his face, but tears were streaming down his face. He was going to do it. Finally, he would be happy. He wouldn't have to regret everything he had ever done. It would all be gone. He emptied the bottle with one last gulp and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"I AM NOT AFRAID TO KEEP ON LIVING, I AM NOT AFRAID TO WALK ALONE," Gerard screamed at the top of his lungs, voice choked with tears as he swallowed the pills.

Moments later as Gerard lay on his floor waiting for himself to leave, he started playing with the empty bottles of the now-swallowed pills. It hit him. He was going to die. His heart stopped. Mikey Lindsay. BANDIT. NO. **NO. **He stood up, his vision doubled, the pills were working. He staggered and fell to the ground. He was going to die. He dragged himself downstairs and desperately reached for the phone. Dialing Mikey's number, he waited. And waited. And waited. Mikey never picked up. Gerard dropped the phone and slowly laid down on the ground. His last tear slid down his cheek. It tasted salty and sweet.


End file.
